Beauty is ubiquitous
by Ren-kyun
Summary: Unfortunely, the quiet male always knew beauty was fake.
1. Beauty lies

"I have leukemia." Kuroko stared long at the empty, dead eyes of whom he was speaking to. They showed no emotion, hidden by the glossy film that laced over them. Silence ensued as the two unrelentingly watched each other, waiting for one of them to strike first. His fingers gripped the bathroom sink as both of the images ducked their heads and sighed. Cerulean locks draped down on their faces, shielding their vision.

"Ah." Kuroko muttered to his reflection. "This is much more difficult than I thought it would be." He released the ceramic sink and rubbed his sullen face. "Much more difficult." He repeated before leaving the bathroom. He treaded up to his room and picked out the first book his fingers brushed against. Falling onto his bed, Kuroko slowly opened the book and began his beautiful life as someone else.

* * *

The Kübler-Ross model is about death. Introduced by a Swiss physicist, Kübler-Ross, it was made to capture the feelings of what loss or grief feels like. Whether that be for you or someone else, it outlined the normal build up to the all important last step of acceptance.

Kuroko found it amusing since it seemed he had skipped this whole process. He didn't really care if he were to live or die, a horrible thing to think. He grew up in a middle class family, not too wealthy, but comfortable enough. He had a loving mother and father, both were very kind, though not around much. Kuroko understood though, as they both worked abroad, being alone was something he was used to for a while.

He had friends, many kind friends. Though they had a bit of a falling out in high school, now the eight were as close as ever. So even with his parents away, Kuroko was never lonely. Of course, now he just wished he was. Telling his worrisome companions would be the most difficult part of the process.

He could just imagine the look in all their eyes, it made Kuroko shudder.

The news was given about a week. It was just a regular check up, or so he thought. The doctor had asked him a few questions that apparently raised suspicions.

"Yes, there have been a few bruises that just appear. I'm not sure why though..."

"I have been getting seemingly random nosebleeds now that I think about it..."

"Headaches and body aches have been becoming quite frequent as well..."

"Anemia? Well, I suppose..."

"What exactly about my excrement?"

And after that series of questions, the led him to a few tests that day. Kuroko would be lying if he said he didn't feel the faint presence of fear, but it was just that; faint. He thought to himself, _a normal person doesn't go through these tests. There's something I should be frightened of right now._

But those thoughts left the boy's twisted mind as soon as they appeared.

After they ran him through all the machines, he was excused from the clinic. Kuroko didn't miss the flash of conflict that spread across the nurse's face before being replaced by a beautiful smile.

Unfortunately, the quiet male always knew beauty was fake.

A week or so later, a call rang through his empty household. No one picked up.

He fell unconscious during practice. The coach was hysterical, shouting for someone to get him to the nurse's office. Kagami carried his beautiful body all down the halls, ignoring the sideways glances passerby's gave the the basketball team.

Of course, Kuroko woke up while being placed onto the bed. He apologized for troubling the team. The captain yelled at the boy, sputtering angry words at him.

He was forcefully sent home after the school nurse checked him over, not before being asked where he had gotten all these bruises from.

"Basketball practice." His team frowned.

* * *

"Oh, I see."

"No, no, it's alright."

"Parents? They're abroad currently."

"No, I don't think you can reach them."

"I'll tell them myself."

"Of course, they'll call as soon as they get home."

"You don't have to apologize."

"Though, I would appreciate it if you don't tell your son, Midorima-sensei."

"Thank you."

* * *

He didn't cry that night. The next morning, he went to the doctor's clinic right away and picked up the paperwork. Getting a note from one of the doctors, he politely bowed and thanked them for their service. He was told not to push himself. Still, he went to school.

When walking into his classroom, no one really noticed him, unsurprisingly. Kagami, being the only one Kuroko was worried about spotting him, was fast asleep, face in his textbook.

Stuffing the doctor's note in his pocket, the cerulean haired male silently made his way to his seat and sat down. For once in his life, he actually stayed awake during English class.

'-use adjectives to describe a noun. For example, The red boy was beautiful. Both red and beautiful describe what? The noun being in this case, boy.'

The lesson dragged on, and Kuroko began daydreaming. He remembered the story he read the night before about a noble mercenary who was terribly injured. He refused to tell his party in fear of becoming a hinderance, so he concealed it and fought until the end where his injuries got the better of him. He died during a fight he could have easily won if he had not been so stubborn.

Kuroko always thought of him as foolish, but the author seemingly portrayed him as selfless, courageous, and strong. Most of all beautiful.

As the bluenette left class, he gave his teacher a shock. The older man scolded him, telling his student to speak up next time during roll call. Kuroko apologized.

* * *

Practice was difficult. Well, truth be told, it was always difficult for Kuroko since his physique wasn't the best. Perhaps it was always like that because of his disease? Maybe he's thinking too hard, that's not healthy.

So he decided to let off some steam. While running laps, Kuroko disappeared from the crowd of teammate and grabs his puppy. The dog shrieked with joy and hopped right into his arms. His coach and upperclassmen looked at him knowingly and sighed as he caught up with Kagami.

The larger man let out a squeal and ran faster. Kuroko's eyes sparkled with mischief before he felt something wet run down his upper lip. He stopped and licked it, tasting the metallic liquid. His captain shouted that his nose is bleeding. Kuroko could've figured that out himself.

Quickly, his puppy is taken out of his arms and he's lead quietly and carefully to the bench. They treat him like glass, as if he's about to break from sound alone. His coach ordered most of the members to continue running while the regulars examined their teammate.

Kuroko just missed his puppy's warmth.

* * *

The first person he tells surprisingly isn't who he thought it'd be. When he first was diagnosed, Kuroko's mind drifted to a couple people, his parents, his new light, and his unrequited crush. Though, this development made a bit more sense seeing as she was his coach.

Plus he didn't really have much of a choice.

He willingly gave her the diagnostic papers after she had asked him to stay behind while the others changed. His puppy stayed by his feet.

Kuroko could see, even though she tried to stay neutral, her eyes had a passing look of fear, regret, pity. 'I'm sorry' almost left her lips, but she wasn't blind. Kuroko's face said more than silly words ever could.

"Please, refrain from telling anyone else."

In exchange, he was banned from practicing.

* * *

"Yeah, everything's fine."

"No, you don't have to worry."

"I'm not lonely at all, I have lots of friends."

"I'm not a ghost like in elementary school."

"Yes, I am eating well."

"I miss you too."

"I'm positive, everything's alright here."

"Alright, goodbye, love you-"

"-mom and dad."

* * *

He told Kagami next, feeling as if the larger male had the right to know. His reaction was exactly what he was prepared for, a lot of yelling, a lot of anger, a lot of ' _Why are you so calm!?_ ' Kuroko would just shrug.

Luckily, they weren't anywhere too public, only the basketball court. But that didn't mean Kagami's booming voice wasn't disruptive. So with a deadpanned face, Kuroko passed a basketball right in the furious male's face. Needless to say, after recovering from the basketball imprint on his cheek, he was pissed.

But instead of grabbing the blue eyed boy's cranium, like he usually would, he opted to clutching his fists in the open, stomping his feet, and making gesticulated movements all over the court.

At one point, he took out his cell and began dialing. Kuroko stopped him by passing another basketball, this time at his hand. It worked a little too well, as it connected with the target, Kagami's cell was smashed out of his hand and landed unforgivingly on the blacktop. The device snapped in two.

"I'm sorry. I'll pay for the damages. But you're not calling any of them. I'll tell them myself."

Kagami then freaked out for a couple more minutes, before deciding that horrible words and air punching would do nothing. So he instead walked up to the smaller male until he was uncomfortably close. He placed a hand on his shoulder and began leading him to the bulk of the city with a harden expression.

"Kagami-kun?"

He received no answer, instead being helplessly lead. They walked in silence until they came upon a familiar district. Kuroko furrowed his eyebrows as he came upon a familiar building.

"What are you doing?"

He was lead through a familiar door, into a familiar space, in a familiar line. There, the two teens waited in silence until it was their turn to order. Kagami stepped up and order and regular meal with two large vanilla shakes.

He was given a strange look. Being a regular there, people understood the multitude of what he usually orders. And though first hearing it was surprising, it was seemingly nothing compared to hearing his miniscule order today.

But nonetheless he got the order, and with the tray in one hand and Kuroko's shoulder in the other, he lead them to their familiar table. They both sat down and the food and drinks were placed in front of the puzzled, blue haired boy.

Kagami told him to eat.

Kuroko blinked, but still obliged, unwrapping the burger and sipping on the beautiful, creamy dessert.

Kagami then told him to talk.

Kuroko frowned, but still obliged, telling of his visit to the doctor's clinic and how he only had a couple months to live.

* * *

"Thank you for the meal."

"Yes, I'll be fine."

"Yes, I have told my parents."

"It might've been heredity."

"I'm fairly certain my grandmother passed from this."

"No, I can make it home myself."

"Yes, I would like another shake."

"Thank you, Kagami-kun."

* * *

Kuroko woke up on his kitchen floor the next day. His head was thumping annoyingly and red stained the floors and counters. He opened his mouth only to feel it stuck in place by the revolting, harden blood all around it.

Slowly, he stood, wobbling, but refusing to use anything as support. He nearly passed out again, but somehow made it back on his feet. He reminded himself of a baby, not mentally of course, but physically.

He then leaned over his kitchen sink and turned on the water. At first, he only cupped his hands and splashed the cool liquid onto his face. But soon, that process became too tedious, and instead let his whole face be under the stream. It woke him up and cleaned him off.

He rubbed his face all over, feeling the droplets drip from the tip of his nose. Red mixed in like food coloring, except it was water, not food. As the water ran against his head, Kuroko had the strange urge to bake a cake. He was never one for cooking or baking, but he craved one. Red velvet to be specific.

Maybe it was because he was thinking of red food coloring.

Turning off the faucet, Kuroko grabbed a dish towel and dried himself off. He looked at the clock and frowned. It was really early, almost five in the morning. The sun peaked through the curtains, but only barely.

Feeling too awake to return to his bed, Kuroko decided to take a bath. But he realized that he could easily have a fainting spell and drown. Just like that.

It seemed like an ungraceful way to go, so Kuroko came up with the solution of using keeping 119 on speed dial. He never used it, but it kept him assured.

Leaving the bathroom and closing his cell, Kuroko got dressed to go out. He really wanted to go to the store and buy some red velvet cake batter to make a beautiful cake.

* * *

Kuroko received a message while walking home from the store. It was from Midorima, and not his doctor, but his former teammate. At first, he was a little annoyed from the contents of the text, but soon came to view it in a positive light. After all, once dying sets in all you have left is your own mentality, so best to keep optimistic.

Swinging his groceries slightly, Kuroko was kind of excited to get home. He never had really baked, besides making Christmas cookies with his grandmother, so this was a new experience for him. His cake would be beautiful and delicious. It would have sweet white icing and fluffy insides. He had also bought raspberry filling, but he might be too ambitious to use that straight away. Maybe he could decorate the top with regular raspberries instead of the filling? It would be on the edges, lined up pretty. Yes, that would be nice.

In the center, Kuroko would write out with candled shape characters, 'I'm sorry you guys had to find out this way.' Then, he would invite all his friends over and serve them the cake while telling them all about the horrid disease that ravaged his body. It would be like a birthday party. But instead of celebrating life, it would be death.

 _Happy death day_.

Kuroko stopped mid-step. With a disgusted expression, he wondered why his mind wandered into something so terrifyingly graphic. Death day? How dark.

He shook his head and continued on, swinging the groceries slightly as he neared his street. He walked to his big, beautiful home and unlocked the door, holding one of his bags with his teeth. It kind of hurt.

Pushing the front door open, he stepped inside and removed his shoes, humming, "I'm home," to the the portrait of him and his family. He stopped in the hall and bowed to his grandmother's shrine before calmly walking into the kitchen and setting down the groceries. He then looked around in the drawers until he found his grandmother's old cookbook.

Flipping the pages, he came upon other recipes that really looked tasty. Peanut crunch brownies with candy bits? Traditional apple pie with sweet whip cream? Vanilla cream pastries with custard filling? It made Kuroko's mouth water.

"I can make all these," he thought while wiping his drool, "and it'll be fun and delicious." He grabbed his mother's apron and put it on, tying it around his waist. He laughed to himself, "Who said people lose interest in things once they begin withering like flowers?"

* * *

"Hmm?"

"What?"

"He has what!?"

"No, no."

"He would've called me himself.

"Right!?"

"Your father said what exactly?"

"I'll be in Tokyo tomorrow, Shintarou."

* * *

Akashi was very controlled. He was in control of his work, his grades, his sports, his team, his life, and most importantly, his emotions. Usually. It is quite difficult to keep your fear and anger and worry in check when hearing one of your good friends was diagnosed with a terminal illness. On top of that, he never even bothered to tell you.

But that's in the past, because right now, Akashi could only focus on the future. Oh, yes. The future to knocking on Tetsuya's door and giving the usually passive teen a piece of his mind.

Leukemia. T-cell prolymphocytic leukemia. The rarest and most deadly of the bunch, a rousing two percent of people obtain it. It has a doesn't even have a five-year death rate, people are lucky to live past a year. If they're _lucky_.

But this is Tetsuya, of course he's unlucky! Not to mention unhealthy. Though getting proper exercise, his diet is abysmal. Akashi's never heard of anyone drinking that many shakes in the span of only a week.

But bad dieting habits aside, Tetsuya of all people had had the reality of being diagnosed. How? Why?

Akashi had checked his family tree, and his it has no history with the disease. Tetsuya doesn't live in a bad area and most definitely doesn't not smoke nor drink alcohol. So why? The troubled teen leaned forward in his airplane seat, nervously tapping his foot. How many more hours? How much longer until this damn plane gets to Tokyo?

 _My, he sounded like a child._


	2. Beauty dies

_What's so scary about dying?_ Kuroko muses to himself as he waits for the doctor. _Maybe if someone had a goal, maybe if someone had ties to his life, maybe then it would be sad or regretful. But it wouldn't be scary._

With a hearty sigh, Kuroko leans against the bed, making sure to cover his private area with the gown draping across his thighs. He just wants to sleep and maybe take a nice warm bath later on.

His head shifts to the side, and meet with the beautiful beam of a girl in a wheelchair. She isn't real, just in a poster. The propaganda reads, 'Why give up today when you have tomorrow to look forward to?' Kuroko frowns.

 _Dying isn't scary._

As the door opens and his doctor saunters in, Kuroko sits up and listens. The older man is reading off his clipboard, eyes squinting, refusing to meet his patient's. He goes on about a treatment, about side effects, about his chances of death, but it just goes in one ear and out the other.

"Midorima-sensei." Kuroko beckons to the man. The doctor pauses and finally meets the boy's blank gaze. "It's alright."

It took a little, but the message was received. The doctor let out the breath he was holding and sat on his chair, throwing the clipboard down onto his desk. He removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. The conversation shifted at that point.

Instead of beautiful hope, Kuroko then received the much appreciated reality of the situation. Whether they started the treatment or not, Kuroko's chances of surviving were slim at best. Unimaginable at worst. The cancer had been in his body far too long. Most people say a year was lucky. For Kuroko a month would be a miracle.

He's told to write a will. Make a bucket list. Ask his parents why the hell they aren't here supporting their only son. Oops. That last one may have been Kuroko's fault.

But the appointment was brief and to the point, just how the teen liked it. The doctor went through procedures and gave Kuroko a letter to give to his school's principal. He was sent on his way, but not before the nurse gave him a lollipop. The blunette gratefully accepted the treat.

"A will. A bucket list? I'm alright." He murmured to himself while walking out of the clinic. His head was down as he fumbled with the candy wrapping, plastic crinkling in his hands. "Ah. There is one thing I want to do," he stuck the lollipop in his dry mouth, running his tongue over the hard shell, "but I'm afraid it may be too late."

He turned the corner and spit the candy into a garbage can. He felt nauseous.

* * *

'The number you called is currently un-'

"Damnit, Tetsuya!" In a fit of rage, Akashi slammed his cell down onto the airport's floor. The expensive device simply bounced on the tile and skidded a couple feet away. The voice continued, '-available. Please refer to your local operator for more information.'

People around him eyed his actions with disdain, obviously disgusted with the redhead's vulgar behavior. Akashi thinks that they can all go to hell. He paces back and forth in front of an empty row of seats, waiting to see his family's black car come into view. A sign over his head flashed red, reading, 'the flight to Tokyo has been cancel due to impending storms.' He was acting impatient, inappropriate, and most of all unrefined for someone of his status. Akashi then thinks the own voice in his head an go to hell too.

His expression is twisted into one of anger, eyes flashing with duel colors. "Making me worry it's much. Only Tetsuya. Why is he so- so like himself! God, it pisses me off!" He grits and teeth and clutches his head and throws a tantrum, but it doesn't change any of the fact that Tetsuya was dying. Tetsuya was dying!

 _Death is terrifying._

When Tetsuya is gone, he's gone for good. No redo's. No do over's. No more of that shining light in those radiant eyes. No more sudden shocks and sighs of relief as people realize, 'It's just Kuroko.' No more incessant talk about his style of basketball- who even gives a shit about that? No more chances to do what he wished to do.

Akashi sighed. He stumbled back, falling onto the solid airport seat, limp, tired, and weary. He rubbed the bridge of his nose feeling a headache worming its way in. His eyes closed and all he saw was the mixture of red and blue, trying to harmoniously combine, only to end up swirling around each other forever.

 _What disgusting colors_ , the redhead spat fire in his thoughts. _How horribly beautiful_.

* * *

Kise didn't cry as Kuroko imagined he would. A look of pure terror spread onto his usual bright, attractive features before being replaced by dead apathy. Kuroko jested that the ladies would be upset at him, making Kise take on such an odd expression. Kise let a weak smile grow and a few tears began to well up.

But he didn't want to cry.

They say quietly in the Kaijo locker room. Kuroko thinks that he's never been around Kise and silence at the same time. Only the heaved breath of his former teammate was uttered. He doesn't sob his normal, "Kurokocchi!" Just the ear-splitting sound of nothing. Kuroko feels uncomfortable and slips out. Whether Kise noticed or not wasn't of the teen's concern.

Momoi cried. So did Aomine. But most surprising was both of their muddled reactions. Momoi grabbed Kuroko's shirt and pinned him against the wall of Touou High. She screamed insensitive things, "You're a liar, Tetsu-kun! A liar!" It continued with that format, you're a liar, Tetsu-kun. Why didn't you tell us sooner, Tetsu-kun? Do you hate us, Tetsu-kun? "I hate you, Tetsu-kun! I hate you! Do you think this is funny, Tetsu-kun! This isn't a joke! I hate you for dying, _I hate you for dying!_ "

And she then stormed off, releasing the shirt's fabric with malice. She turned the corner and couldn't carry herself anymore, and she collapsed onto the ground, clawing and choking tears on the dirt.

Aomine was staring at Kuroko, staring as tears ungraciously streamed down his face. He opened his mouth multiple times, but nothing would come. He was burning to yell at his friend, to give him his two cents like Momoi just had. But he couldn't force himself to.

The two boys just stared. Kuroko would just shake his head from time to time, before a Aomine just couldn't take it anymore. He teeth clenched like a wild animal. With a anguished roar, he simply turned in the direction toward his gym and ran.

His heart swelled.

Himuro and Murasakibara already knew. Kagami had spilt it to his brother, and there it snowballed. The gossip was everywhere at Yosen. Students of all classes, genders, and age were whispering, " _Have you heard about Murasakibara-san's old teammate?" "Cancer's a beast, don't you agree?" "How sad! Let's give Murasakibara-kun our apology!"_

Kuroko slipped into the school unnoticed, the horrible storm making his advances even less distracting. No one minded his faint presence, or even the fact that he wasn't wearing the same uniform. Not a single soul locked eyes with the phantom. Not even Murasakibara.

There was no doubt that out of all of his former teammates, he was the most distant from the giant center player. He was always the one who jumped the most when Kuroko suddenly appeared. So perhaps it made sense that he couldn't- _wouldn't_ \- notice him. He sat in his desk, away from everyone. There were those that approached him, but they immediately continued past him as they caught a glimpse of his face. Maybe now's not the time, they muttered.

Kuroko looked in from the door and understood.

He had left Yosen without a word uttered and a horrifically pitiful expression wallowing through his thoughts for the rest of they day.

Midorima already knew, of course. As he walked through the gate of Shotoku, the green-haired player was wiping sweat from his face with the orange uniform. He began the conversation as if they had been talking for hours already. "I manage to finally get away from Taoko. You also know I've already told our captain, correct? My father wasn't the best at keeping secrets either, especially terminal ones... Your arrival... I've also been waiting for it. Everyday."

"When did you tell?"

"Just recently. I debated the issue with myself for a while."

Kuroko nodded. "Thank you." And he bowed and left, making a quick 180 to the next district. He knew already. He knew that Midorima already knew days in advance, possibly even before Kuroko, and had ample time to regain himself. Kuroko appreciated that.

Their eyes never met in the exchange, the glass of his lens were shining with sorrow

He was then alone, walking to his school. His attendance had dropped, but no one seemed to mind, care, or think much about it. There were over fifty 'missed' calls. His parent sent a text of the Empire State Building, obliviously to the situation.

'How nice,' Kuroko typed out, fingers stiff, 'Are you two doing wel-'

He had a fit before he could finish the message, doubling over to grab the nearest solid object he could find. His body shook furiously. Pain wracked his chest. As the storm passed, his blue eyes glanced at the palm of the hand that shielded his mouth. It was stained red.

How many days had it taken? He wasn't sure. He could only handle going to one school at a time, though he had stayed home on others. A week? Maybe longer?

How much time, how much time?

The wobbly teen hobbled his way home, closing out his messages. The cellphone was ready on speed dial. He would respond to his parents later.

* * *

Akashi could care less about the laws of the road. He's been in a car too long to care. His hands were taut, gripping the seat as if life itself depend on it. His knuckles were pure white. His eyes never left the road, though his was in the back. How much time?

"Tetsuya, Tetsuya, Tetsuya." He held the name close, murmuring it softly. His driver was respectfully quiet. "Tetsuya, Tetsuya, Tetsuya-"

" _When was Tetsuya diagnosed!?"_

 _"I believe almost two weeks ago."_

 _"You've waited this long to tell me!?"_

 _"With my understanding, he's just begun telling us. Kise knows. Aomine and Momoi know. Im sure he's gone to Yosen by now. I'm waiting for him to tell me himself now." Akashi could care less about his excuse._

 _"Next time," his voice was spiteful, "can you tell me first? You will tell me first, understood, Shintarou?"_

How much time, how much time?

Akashi cared greatly about that.

* * *

The cake was soft. Kuroko poked it curiously. He was overjoyed with the results, happiness swimming in his dead eyes. Baking was easier than cooking, at least to the blue-haired teen. He was very good with measuring the ingredients, careful to put just the right amount in. His stirring was not to violent nor weak. And he always had a keen sense of time, guessing nicely how long the cake should been in the oven.

Now his hard work had produced a fruitful product. He wondered if his grandmother would be proud. She would softly pat his head, tell him what a good boy he was. How proud she was.

"I wonder how she died?" Kuroko muttered to himself. He grabbed a pastry bag and filled it with pre-made icing. "I wonder if it hurts?"

The storm outside rumbled. Lightning cracked for the first time. Rain furiously pattered on his roof. It was bizarre and calming. Coolness leaked in from the peaked window.

His hands were stained red again as some icing dribbled out the top, onto Kuroko's tense skin.

"I feel insignificant." He laughed.

The tip was an open cross shape. The design it made was aesthetically pleasing. He swirled the icing on the edge, almost like the little section was a cupcake.

"Will anyone miss me?"

A little bit got onto the counter, his hands were shaking badly. Lightning cracked again, he felt scared. Where was his family? He was alone. He looked to the phone, but didn't make any move for the device.

"I didn't do what I wanted."

He _tried_ his best- he _could_ do it- he _wanted_ to do it-

"I messed up again."

 _Tried- I tried. I tried my best, but I'm just a useless- I can't-_

"This is it."

Everything was still as he dropped the bag of icing. The entire thing slammed onto the floor, scarlet sugar shooting out the tip. Lightning cracked once more. His fingers laced into his messy locks, gripping his cranium with ballistic force. He breathed in- and in- and in.

 _Come on, breath_. His mind was racing. _Not yet. Not yet._

In and in and in and in. White began oozing in from the corners of his vision. Murasakibara's face of anxiety and pain flooded thoughts. Momoi's cries echoed in his ears. He smelled the sweat and tears of the Kaijo locker room. Aomine's fleeting scent teased his nose. He hallucinated Midorima's calls and messages.

He knows. _Where is he?_ He knows. _Why isn't he here?_

Lightning cracked for a fourth time outside. He began thinking. What's so scary about dying, what's so scary about dying. Tell me, what's so scary about dying?... Everything.

Everything is terrifying.

 _Not yet, not yet, not yet, not yet-_

 ** _I can't go yet!_**

And he exhaled, his grip on his head loosening. He wheezed and coughed, violently. It stung. His knees gave out as he slumped slowly onto the floor. His grabbed the counter to break his fall. In a moment, he was laying on his back, sputtering blood. He tried to shamefully cover his mouth, but the red icing's sickeningly sweet smell attacked his nostrils. He was alright with just convulsing on the floor, spitting into the air. His hand dropped to his side, pulsating randomly.

His floor was red, bitter and sweet. His phone was on the counter, 911 on the screen. The call button was never hit.

* * *

His goal in life is...?

* * *

 _Looking at his captain like a giddy schoolgirl. How embarrassing. How helpless. How was he not supposed to fall in love?_

 _His eyes were so innocent at the time as he gripped his jersey. He stared at the beautiful red eyes. He wanted to say it. Three little words._

 _'Akashi-kun?'_

 _'Yes?'_

 _'... G-Good job today.'_

 _And strangely, he would stare at him, almost disappointed._

 _'Ah, I see.' A smile. 'You on the other hand can barely keep up.'_

 _He returned the expression gratefully. 'I do what my job is. And my position, whatever it is, doesn't require the hellish workout you put together.'_

 _A wide grin would grow as he would make his captain laugh so sweet. A wave of adrenaline would pass. I did it. I love making him laugh. I love being near him. I love him. And he would feel his chest burst open._

His chest was bursting open. _It hurt, oh god. It hurts._

* * *

They never made it in time. Kuroko was found by Kagami. The poor basketball player was forever scarred when he looked upon the figure of the boy he so admired. His teammate. His friend. His best friend.

It was sad. His body was outstretched, desperately reaching for the phone that lied just out of his reach. It must've fallen from the counter. The screen was black and broken. Kagami wondered if he was close to getting it, but the thought stabbed at his heart.

The paramedics lifted his body easily and efficiently. They tipped their hat at the traumatized high schooler, bidding their standard, 'I'm sorry.' Kagami stood and watched.

 _It was a heart attack, not the cancer._

Kise, Momoi, and Aomine were at the hospital as quickly as possible. Kagami filled them in with what had happen, how it ended. His voice wasn't his own. It cracked and broke as he turned to sit down. The ER sign was red, but he knew it wasn't going to be on too long. They still tried though. He was told he died in the ambulance. So they had a 'chance.'

Kagami slipped more knowing that fact.

Momoi just fell into her knees. She was a mess. Crying wasn't a strong enough word of the action she was performing. Tears were nonstop. Her wail echoed. She covered for Aomine and Kise. The two teens gritted their teeth and sobbed. Kise choked and began to cry harder. Aomine covered his mouth, refusing to look at the other three breaking down.

Murasakibara was beside himself. He was pissed at Kuroko. He never told him. He never went to the hospital with the others, though he didn't go to school for a week either. He shoveled down everything he could find the day Kuroko passed. Everything tasted delicious. He threw it all across his room because it wasn't fair.

It was an even tougher day for Midorima. He waited at the Akashi estate. He waited and waited. He felt the crisp coolness of tears stream down his face as he waited. He heard his tiny sobs slip from his mouth. He waited.

When the black car arrived, he felt himself meltdown.

* * *

When he hears it, he feels as if he just died.

 ** _It's not true._**

 **A/N: I feel like I just celebrated a funeral ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ**

 **So, okay. I don't know what's sadder, the concept of this story, the fact it exists, or the way I executed it ,cause it is alllll over the place.**

 **Everything's so disorganized and the ending is shit ahahahahAHAHAHA. I didn't touch on everything I wanted to (i.e. More on Akashi cause he is uselss in this, Kuroko's parents) BUT I GIVE UP.**

 **I also really wanted to get my facts straight lol. I remember when I first began this I was like "oh god I'm looking up every type of terminal disease and imma be medically accurate." And I was like researching 6 different diseases. I finally found one that Kuroko could possibly get and I could work with. Haha I even put it in the first chapter specifically cause I was so fucking proud of myself.**

 **Then I got to the end of this and was like, "Duuuuurrrr fuck it he's gonna have a heart attack durrrrr..."**

 **I can't do this, Happy Halloween everyone. Here is sIN.**


End file.
